


cheddar is a terrible guard dog

by raracatsputin



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: M/M, Reunion Fic, just dads being dads, post-coral palms, there were so many cute jake and amy ones but i needed this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 09:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13408740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raracatsputin/pseuds/raracatsputin
Summary: When Raymond sees his husband for the first time in over six months, he is bartering with the dog.





	cheddar is a terrible guard dog

**Author's Note:**

> i'm gay and i binged this show in one week and now i'm gay: the sequel

            The cold of a New York night settles into Raymond’s bones as he refuses help with his luggage and hobbles toward his door.

 

            It takes double the time it should, with a backpack weighing on his shoulders and crutches doing their best to keep him balanced. He ignores the aching pain of his back and leg- Florida made him old, he reasons- while fumbling for his keys. The FBI returned his possessions, like his phone and wallet, after he dealt with mountains of paperwork fresh off the airplane. However, his keys were the largest symbol of having his life back; he swept his fingers over each one to readapt to their feel and remember the places they unlocked.

 

The porch light switches on upon detecting movement, and he uses the light to quietly unlock the door. Muscle memory reminds him that the door is slightly off track and needs to pulled in order to be unlocked. He is momentarily surprised Kevin has not hired someone to fix it yet-

 

            -and then Raymond remembers he had promised to borrow tools in order to fix it himself after Kevin dropped groceries because of the problematic door. Which was right before he left.

 

            He tries not to think about it too much.

 

            The black Suburban that had been idling in wait finally pulls back onto the road. Something in the back of his consciousness relaxes as his lingering ties to the Witness Protection Program drive away. He now understands why Peralta all but leapt through the window when they had dropped him off at his apartment, even with his matching pair of crutches. As nice as she seemed to be, Raymond never wants to speak with Marshall Haas again.

 

            It is a little awkward shuffling inside his house- _Raymond’s_ house, not Greg’s- with an impairment, but he manages. Against the instructions of doctors and the screaming of his conscious, he rests the cursed crutches against the front door. Surely, he can’t damage his leg any more. He lets the bag glide off his shoulder onto the ground as well, thankful he will not have much to unpack.

 

            Released of his burdens, Raymond finds himself at a standstill. The house is dark, with a faint illumination coming from somewhere to his right. He honestly did not think this far ahead. Throughout the plane trip and car ride, he was just ready to step foot in his home; now, he must face the inevitable readjustment and awkward period of an impromptu vacation.

 

            He is truly looking forward to seeing Kevin again. His husband was on his mind the entire length of his absence. Before bed and first thing in the morning, settling down for breakfast, lunch, and dinner- he could not help but wonder what Kevin was doing, or if he was thinking of him too.

 

            However, Raymond is having difficulty bringing himself to move from the doorway. Kevin knew he would arrive tonight as Marshall Haas had called him personally, but no one could tell an exact time. Does he know his husband is here now, lingering at the door? Is he wondering why Raymond is hesitating? To be truthful, Kevin is not the only one.

 

            As his eyes wonder around the visible house in search of any changes or additions- he is a well enough trained detective to know he is stalling- a faint sizzling starts from deeper in the house. The same direction as the light, he figures. A smell wonders through shortly after, which serves as an incentive to follow it.

 

            Raymond all but drags his injured leg through the house, and his body begins to recover its mental map of the house. As quietly as possible, he limps into the kitchen. Such is difficult, especially after drifting too far to the side and hitting his bad leg on the table. For a quick moment, he lets himself irrationally think that it would hurt less to have his leg amputated.

 

            Every light in the kitchen is on. He stops just inside the doorway with his mind immediately trying to place the smell. On the other side of the island dividing the room in two, a plethora of seasonings is in a straight line alongside the glowing stove. Raymond has never known Kevin to be so unwise as to leave food cooking without supervision. He takes another few steps into the room and-

 

            _And_ -

 

            -and Raymond sees his husband for the first time in over six months. His most recent memories are a trip to Paris, which seems so short and so long ago compared to what occurred afterwards. He has had no contact with the man who recited classics to help him sleep and placed silk pajamas fresh out of the dryer outside his shower in half a year. He had thought about this reunion too often than was good for his health. The day has finally arrived, but not how he ever could have expected.

 

            Raymond see his husband for the first time in over six months, and he is bartering with the dog.

 

            “Now, Cheddar, I will offer you a bargain.” Kevin opens his hand to reveal a corgi-size serving of chicken; Ray wonders what brand of scoundrel his husband has become in feeding their prized dog food scraps. “In exchange for this treat, you will sacrifice your after-dinner walk because of Ray coming home. Do you accept these terms?”

 

            Cheddar yips and places two fuzzy front paws on his owner’s leg. That’s the closest response to an agreement as anyone will get out of him. As Kevin reaches over to deposit the dinner in the dog’s personalized food bowl, Raymond tries to find the words to announce his presence. He struggles to speak through a throat tightening with each tick of the clock.

 

            However, he is saved by Cheddar pausing his sloppy eating to stare at him. Noticing this, Kevin raises his head as well.

 

            Raymond hates using personifications and metaphors in normal situations. Literature is one thing, but reality has no need for the words of authors. Despite this, the only way he can describe the moment he makes eye contact with Kevin is the relief after a storm blows over, sparing the ground dwellers from damage. The exhale of knowing tomorrow is a sunny day that will dry the water pools on the ground. It is every repeating cliché in the books he reads, but he cannot find himself caring.

 

            Kevin stands quickly, not missing a beat. In his haste to cross the kitchen, he almost trips over Cheddar, who abandons the chicken to follow at his heels. Later, when Santiago or Jeffords asks about this night, Raymond will purposefully leave out how his husband all but fell into him. How he returned the embrace just as tightly, chin tucked above the collar of an off-white polo. No one outside their kitchen would know about the few tears that slid down his cheeks or the slight dampness on his shoulder.

 

            In all his time envisioning this scene, Raymond never anticipated the silence. Not a word was spoken as they wrapped around each other, but no words were truly warranted. They both needed this moment of quiet reconciliation. Raymond would have been quite content holding his husband all night and letting the chicken burn, but his leg decides to rudely remind him of his age and a stiff airplane ride. Thankfully, Kevin is observant and notices the subtle tilting to the side before Raymond ends up on the floor.

 

            Pulling back from the hug, Kevin wastes little time in forcing Raymond’s arm over his shoulders. Always the doting husband, he swiftly, but carefully, leads them to the table. Kevin murmurs a dozen reprimands and swears towards Peralta, Figgis, and Marshall Haas under his breath as he lowers Raymond into a chair and searches for a pillow. It is an amazing shift in tone as a completely different atmosphere fills the kitchen. Raymond walked into this house a stranger, and within minutes it is like he never left. As his husband fusses over his leg, Raymond finds himself recalling Kevin’s favorite color (beige), alarm clock setting (three alto pitched beeps), and sleeping position (on his side, one hand touching his bedmate.)

 

            The return trip home has turned him back into a high schooler reading about romance in black and white but never quite finding it in color. As much as he hates misuse of the terminology, it’s- as Peralta would put it- gay. Tonight is a reunion, however, so he is allowed to let his etiquette fail him, right?

 

            After double and triple checking that Raymond’s leg is properly elevated, Kevin grabs a chair for himself and drags it suspiciously close, an arm of the chair lightly brushed Raymond’s leg. Either would be rather be dead than caught showing such affection. However, Raymond couldn’t be more pleased as he nonchalantly intertwines their fingers.

 

            “So,” Raymond begins, clearing his throat for the first word he has spoken since he walked in.

 

            “So,” Kevin bounces the word back, “Is this it? They are not returning to take you away again?”

 

            Raymond, noticing the coldness of Kevin’s _they_ , lets a small smile betray him. “Yes, it is over. They would have to put me in handcuffs before I left again.”

 

            Kevin’s tense shoulders do not fall. “It seems Florida has brought you back a changed man. I have never known you to use such exaggeration.”

 

            The statement is said in humor, but Raymond knows there is so much more behind it. _are you still my husband?_ Kevin’s tone says, _how drastically did Florida change you? is there someone else who wants you dead now?_

            Most of all, the statement asks: _are you okay?_

 

            “Peralta has influenced me, yes, but time in a homophobic, racist town does not alter a man much.” Raymond takes a breath, internally hoping is memory is reliable. “ _Love can change a person the way a parent can change a baby- awkwardly, and often with a great deal of mess_.”

 

            Kevin laughs- a soft, short laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. “Ever the funny man. Lemony Snicket’s recent works, I see. Here I was convinced you would never open a book of his.”

 

            “Well, between jogging with elderly women and keeping children in line at an awful arcade, I found myself with time to read. I figured you would not recommend a bad author, so I bought a few of his series.”

 

            And, just like that, Raymond gives an unspoken answer to an unspoken question: _i’m okay._

With one hand scratching Cheddar’s head, Raymond continues, “I smelled the lovely dinner when I first arrived. Is it almost finished?”

 

            In an instant, the fond look Kevin had adopted vanished as he jumps from his chair with a gasp. Raymond suppresses a chuckle. He watches as his husband frantically tries to save the chicken, but the burning smell proves it is too late. Cheddar happily seems to have the only salvageable dinner.

 

            Like wretches, they eat ham leftover from Kevin’s dinner yesterday, along with extra-roasted carrots and potato salad. Neither openly complains, but Raymond does make faces whenever Kevin is not attentive. Regardless, it is the first time in months Raymond has eaten dinner without feeling lonely. By the knee that bumps against his own, he can tell it is the same for Kevin.

 

            After the dishes are cleared away, they maneuver to the couch. During such, Kevin takes the time to berate his husband for walking without assistance; despite such, he noticeably does not retrieve the crutches. Cheddar crawls between them, head on Kevin and stubby legs stretched toward Raymond.

 

            With their family patched together again, they talked well into the night. Kevin shares anecdotes of Santiago and Boyle’s failed attempts to connect with him, with Diaz and Jeffords serving as cleanup crew, but Raymond does not miss the slight smiles woven among sentences. In turn, Raymond tells of Peralta’s fascination with four-wheelers and the pure anger of seeing a child vomit into a golf ball hole.

 

            They reconnect well into the night, sipping wine and slowly shifting closer between stories and laughter. Kevin lays his head on Raymond’s shoulder somewhere around two in the morning, and an hour later he fails to respond to a question as he falls into a deep slumber. The dark handprints beneath his eyes show it is a much-needed rest.

 

            Raymond decides they can continue to live as cavemen for a little longer and pulls a blanket around them. As he rests his head against Kevin’s, carefully trimmed hair poking at his chin, Raymond realizes what he was deprived of for six months. While he had watched Peralta agonize over the fence and dismissed him as a lovesick child, he is now confronted with the fact he had stifled similar feelings. While it may have been necessary to hide in Coral Palms, he had been so lonely, so homesick, and so deprived of _family._

 

            Finally, back inside _his_ home with _his_ husband and knowing _his_ Nine-Nine squad is waiting for him to return to command within a few days, Raymond falls asleep.


End file.
